Not Just A Killer
by hissingwaste
Summary: The small pouch of two-hundred and fifty caps jingled as he retrieved his pack from the fire pit. It reminded him of Jack all over again and how much he missed having someone by his side, someone he could depend on no matter what.
1. Chapter 1

' _Of the people. For the people.'_

 _Oh brother._

Jack thought he had been long past phased by the anomalous Boston wastes he woke up to just a couple months ago. Yet, here he stood borderline baffled in Goodneighbor beneath the rain which wet the dried blood on the pavement and created an almost nauseating stench of rotten iron. And not just within the settlements walls, but behind them as well. Maybe it was the fresh blood that spewed from the man named Finn who had been shanked to death in front of Jack by the town's own Mayor Hancock. Though the ghoul seemed nice enough, he wasn't who Jack needed to see and he didn't want to dwell anymore on the events that had just transpired. So he took a step over the man's dead body to go deeper into the infamous realm of crime he had heard so much about.

Fluorescent and pink sat the Memory Den at the heart of the town like a jewel. But Nick wasn't here yet and Jack needed a stiff one to take the edge off the fresh memory of bashing Kellogg's skull in.

 _In 100 years, when I die, I hope I go to hell just so I can kill you all over again you_ _ **piece of shit**_ _._

The British robot wasn't as kind as Codsworth, but he appreciated the assertiveness the Third Rail had to offer. Jack originally intended to wind down, but word was Hancock needed some warehouses cleaned out and he could do with extra caps while he was here. And he was well adapted enough to understand that cleaning was done with blood. A lot of blood, as he realized he couldn't fit the number of warehouses on one hand. He noted this to himself amusingly. It was the little things that kept him sane. But it was the back up in combat that kept him alive at times. So when Charlie mistook him for a merc (maybe he was at this point) and hinted to the one named MacCready hold up in the back of the bar, Jack let the music around him and the idea of ordering a whiskey slip from his mind. _"Should we take this outside?"_ He found himself lurking silently behind two gunners and a rather small (and grumpy) looking blonde man.

"In case you forgot, I left the gunners for good."

"But you're still taking jobs in the Commonwealth."

It was evident that the ex-gunner was MacCready and he hopelessly wanted nothing to do with the two gruff raiders that confronted him. "I don't take orders from you… not anymore."

The words sent Jack's thoughts barreling into a flashback where he saw himself young and fresh faced adorned in an even fresher military uniform. It was before he was married to Callie. Before they had Shaun. Before _everything_. He was in his early twenties at least and had seen his first tour in Alaska just shy of the Chinese invasion in Anchorage. They told him they wanted his combat skills to assist in a strike on China in their own invasion to help relieve pressure off the U.S. coast.

Jack didn't want to kill anymore, _'I don't take orders from you! I can't…'_

But under an extent of military pressure, he went to China anyway. He ponders too often if riding out his career until retirement was truly worth it. Even with the fancy power armor and the decorated medals that no longer meant anything more than dust in the wind. Even now, _especially now_ , as he watched this kid who was easily no older than twenty-two fend off a couple of men he _used_ to take orders from.

"… Why don't you take your girlfriend and walk outta' here while you still can."

That seemed to ruffle the darker raider's feathers and Jack couldn't hold back a brief smirk. The voice of the two laid it out straight that the only reason MacCready was still alive was because they didn't need a war with Goodneighbor and it made him wonder just how far this kid's reputation ran exactly or if these guys were more intimidated than they were letting on. Winlock spewed some bullshit about respecting people's boundaries, but Jack could recall many instances that Gunner's had raided an unsuspecting settlement just for the hell of it. _No respect there, buddy_. The only thing keeping them from drawing their weapons was that every single person in this town was also armed to the teeth, even that singer probably, and they'd be dead before anyone could count to three. They were flattering themselves if they thought Hancock would even bother with a war.

"If we hear you're operating in gunner territory, all bets are off. Got that?"

"Ya finished?"

 _Good_.

Jack stepped coldly past the two men as they passed without meeting their daggering gaze that he could feel for a split second at the back of his head. His eyes instantly met MacCready's which were light blue and dilated like a curious child. The mercenary seemed taken aback by him only for a second before he let his expression relax back into its scowl from before.

"Look pal- if you're preachin' about the Atom or lookin' for a friend you got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... then maybe we can talk." Jack second guessed for a second if this guy had just read his mind.

"'Might just be your lucky break. But first- tell me about those guys back there."

"A couple of morons lookin' to climb the ladder to success by stepping on everyone else on the way up. That's how the gunners are."

"A cult of raiders, right?"

MacCready's tough guy routine melted into a smirk that almost mirrored the one Jack had released earlier. They had a similar appreciation for being snarky, but he was already frowning again and back to business. Said he ran with the gang because the money was good, though he never fit in. Jack knew right away it was because this kid had a conscious that a lot of people in this life had lost, even if MacCready didn't know it yet. The cynical melancholy that surrounded him told Jack that maybe he already did know it.

The two sized one another cautiously. Considering the fact that Jack was adorned in an armored vault jumpsuit with a solid fire arm slung on his back, the young mercenary probably had more unanswered questions than the ladder.

"What about you?" MacCready's tone became underlined with more suspicion to match his guard. _"How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?"_

"You don't. All part of the risk."

He seemed to oddly be set at ease. "Can't argue with that."

"Jack."

"RJ. Two hundred and fifty caps up front and you've got yerself an extra gun."

" _Gee, what a bargain_. Deal."

The two men clasped each other's arms in a firm, sealing handshake and never let their eye contact fall. Because of that, Jack felt something pass between them. He could tell RJ felt it too as his face had almost relaxed into a soft curiosity. It was like a warm spark he could feel spread from the middle of his chest to the tips of his fingers. Then, for just a second longer, Jack started to admire how physically appealing MacCready was. All of that faded away as soon as their arms dropped to their sides again and the music snaked its way back into the room. "So… what now?"

Jack looked at him questionably as he tried to reclaim his thoughts and the impatient mercenary scowled again. "You're my boss right now."

"Before I found you I was going to down a whiskey."

"Yeah? Then what?"

"Then I found out that the good ol' mayor needs his warehouses cleaned of a few bad eggs. Catch my drift?"

MacCready's mouth curled into a mischievous smile that almost got Jack's blood pumping. His eyes became shadowed under his military cap. "Mopped with blood. I get ya. You're already talkin' my language."

Jack couldn't think of any way to currently drop the ball that he was also in desperate search for his missing son. Soon enough they'd have to step foot into the memory den and then RJ would know everything. He briefly entertained the small possibility that he had just found more than a hired gun.


	2. Chapter 2

MacCready felt utterly blind sighted.

 _First_ , he hears about some guy in a vault suit running around the Commonwealth out of nowhere all of which sounds too familiar. Second, the same dweller makes a coincidental detour and lands on the Third Rail's doorstep. Then, he finds himself hired and fighting alongside the big blue guy in almost no time flat. And RJ thought the only business he would ever have with him was just that- chopping down anyone that got in their way for a good share of caps. They'd split after a month or two when one of them ended up dead or MacCready got bored.

 _Now_ , after what he had seen in the Memory Den, RJ tried his best to bat away that gnawing sense of curiosity that made his nerves twitch. Helping someone find their child was something that MacCready naturally got behind. He didn't care about what this guy had seen, but he knew that wasn't true. He _didn't_ _want_ to care. Yet somehow every time he looked at Jack the questions would bubble up and RJ found himself wondering with a deep set scowl. It gave him a headache. _Is he really over two-hundred years old? Did he really loose his family… like that?_ It was a foreign feeling of compassion that MacCready hadn't really felt for anyone but his son; at least since his Little Lamplight days.

'… _Heh. I was right. I should have killed you when you were on ice.'_

Jack took the synth detective violently by the collar of his shirt and let off a sudden impulsive, dangerous air that made even MacCready flinch. _'You wanna try for round two?!_ _ **Let's go.**_ _'_ His shout startled almost everyone in the building, maybe even cracked the foundation itself, and RJ rushed swiftly to pull him off Nick whose voice had once again become his own.

'… _What? What are you talking about?'_

' _Wait… were you just playin' a joke on me?'_

They had booked it out of Goodneighbor not too long after that. Once they fought their way out of Southy, they traveled the road west towards ground zero. It had taken over a day of comfortable silence, sprinkled with very small talk of directions, before they made enough distance for Jack to be able to map out the nearest settlement on his pip-boy. It took another two (maybe three or four) more days of traveling, this time including a conversation here and there as the men had time to warm-up to one another. He was a little pleased to find that they found eye-to-eye on a lot of things.

MacCready didn't know what impressed him more- that the Minutemen really _were_ back or that Jack was the general of the whole thing. The settlers of Somerville were an older couple with two sons and they greeted them with open arms because the 'general' had saved them from a feral ghoul threat in the past. Feral ghoul was a word that made RJ's blood run cold in an instant. Thinking about them made him want to scream. In that case he wasn't too keen on the idea of having to go to the ass end of the Glowing Sea for the _possibility_ of getting a lead on something seemingly _impossible_. Teleportation was alien talk. And he hated aliens.

However, the unpredictable man who currently polished his assault rifle with a scrapped piece of leather had proved to be a good example of the resiliency of the human spirit. He sat upon a small makeshift wall of concrete blocks that had been set around the fire pit. The light from the fire reflected off Jack's sun-kissed features, showing the small hint of freckles that fluttered across his nose like stars. He looked up at RJ who watched him under the furrow of his brows.

"Toss me some glue? She's gotta' loose stock thanks to that one Triggerdick. You know the one" MacCready resisted the urge to snicker and instead silently retrieved a bottle of adhesive from Jack's bag and the pack of cigarettes from his own. He gave it an uninterested toss before walking away in which Jack nearly fumbled the catch in confusion at the man's cold shoulder.

"Thanks, RJ." Judging by Jack's smile, he was probably more amused than anything.

A rare breeze washed over MacCready's skin as he lit the cigarette resting between his busted lips. He looked up at the sky that was adorned in ribbons of midnight blue clouds where the last remnants of the sun peaked through the horizon. The fading row of orange left by the sun matched the dragging amber and he released a satisfying billow of smoke into the darkness. It was a natural painting that reminded him of Lucy. Maybe she was up there somewhere watching him back. MacCready reminded himself it was just a sky that could easily be washed away by a radiation storm. He tried not to dwell as much as possible. It just made him sad.

The peaceful moment was shattered when MacCready heard the shrill sound of a women's scream come from behind him. Just as his heart dropped he turned and the cigarette fell from his lips. He drew his rifle with practiced ease and down the scope in the lantern light he found the mother fallen prey to a human shield by a raider. _Where in the heck did they…?_ Before he even had a chance to hold his breath and pull the trigger, MacCready felt a powerful blow to the back of his head. Everything went white as he hurled down with an involuntary grunt, rifle flying from his grasp, and his face found purchase with the ground in no time which reopened the busts in his lip.

Now he was _truly_ blind sighted. 

Gun fire thundered through the air around him followed by fallen cries, making it difficult for him to get his bearings. His ears rung heavily. MacCready tried to ignore the hot pain that pulsed in his head as he rolled over to find that he could kind of see clearly again. At least, he could have _sworn_ it was the barrel of a 38. Pistol that he staring down. "Lights out, motherfucker."

RJ felt frozen.

 _Not like this.  
_

It was then that he saw the combat knife punch through the raider's skull with an unsettling crack. Like the sound of a thousand bones breaking. They let out a cry that made MacCready's skin crawl with hints of pain. Especially as Jack ripped the knife from between their eyes and the blood gushed like melted tar. They were dead before they even hit the ground. A gentle, firm grip slid around Mac's arm and Jack helped him to his feet and handed him his weapon. "If they had aimed just a little lower they might have-"  
" _Tch_ , I know." MacCready snapped as he yanked his arm away and took his rifle. He struggled with whether to admire or feel irritated at Jack's selfless heroism. Overall he was relieved that he had gotten his perception back, any snipers most important asset.

"Where did these asshol… gah- _jerks_ come from?"

"They're raiders. Night time they go balls to the walls and try to steal all the food and water they can carry from every poor soul that's got it."

MacCready wiped away the blood that trickled down his chin before looking down his scope to check for anymore advancing enemies. He only saw three littered raiders, including the very first one he had seen. The settlers, though fearful, were surprisingly armed but at the moment they had regrouped. Jack waved to the bystanders, "There'll be more!"

The oldest son gave him a thumbs up as to say ' _we know_ '. MacCready looked at Jack who then gave him an understanding nod.

"Four is a _pretty_ low number to conduct a raid, dontcha' think?"

"Then what are we standing out in the open for?"

As if on que, they both heard the clink of a grenade and dashed for cover. The grenade ripped through the air and the nearest car had taken just enough of the shockwave to cause it to explode in a mini nuclear blast that made Mac's teeth shake and his already aching head to pound more. One of the settlers screamed in shock. Both he and Jack were shoved to the ground in a second. The boys were far away enough to only endure that much, but it was still overwhelming. MacCready got to his feet. He sprinted to the left before the stopped shaking. It was hard to concentrate through his migraine, but he caught sight of a raider advancing through the radiated smoke. 

_BANG._

The raider's head snapped back as the bullet planted itself like a bullseye. He then dashed for cover behind the row of concrete placed by the fire pit just in time to see Jack ruthlessly fire a hand full of rounds into two other advancing raiders. MacCready wrinkled his forehead; this vault guy was almost _too good_ at combat for someone that had just spent a couple centuries frozen in time.

MacCready felt determined to come back from letting his guard down earlier and to show Jack that he was as good a shot as him. A better shot than him. When he heard the raining clank of gunfire from their flank, he dashed from his cover like a bat out of hell. Without even having to glance down the scope, he loaded three shots into the slightly more armored one coming from the right of the house. Lefty was taken off guard.

" _No_! Don't you die on me-"

 _BANG_. Single shot in the skull and MacCready had him down. He felt a churn in his stomach.

Abruptly everything around them went still, signaling that the battle was finished. The raw stench of smoke and blood surrounded what would hopefully once again be a safe as can be home. MacCready lightly panted as he slung the weapon back around him and he removed his hat to run his hand through his light hair. The locks were practically caked in dirt and sweat just like the line of his forehead, but he was more than used to it.

A hand came down his shoulder that made him tense up into a small jump. Once he saw Jack, who was somehow not panting at all, MacCready relaxed. "You impressed, yet?"

"Mmm… I don't know," Jack teased. "I haven't really noticed."

"Aww come on. Three head shots ain't good enough for ya? You've got skill, sure you know talent when you see it…"

Jack chuckled softly and followed it with a charming grin that made MacCready reflect on how strappingly handsome this guy was. Even through the blood and dirt. He felt his heart flutter.

"Thank you! _Oh, thank you, again!_ "

The white-haired mother flew into Jack's arms to give him the most grateful hug he had probably ever received. At least in this world. MacCready noted the blood stains in her hair and he grimaced. She was practically swallowed in Jack's arms as he loosely held the hysterical women. "You're all safe now." His voice was so soothing that it would have made even a deathclaw feel safe. The father and their sons quickly approached to reclaim their mother where they each gave Jack and MacCready a firm handshake of thanks.

"I'll tinker a turret together to leave you with some defense till I get a couple minutemen out here to assemble more."

"It really means a lot. Please, you two can camp out as long as you like. We keep extra beds around for the caravans"

MacCready stayed silent since he was very unaccustomed to being treated like a hero. He had wondered how Jack could give without expecting an ounce in return. But a part of him now understood something: all that mattered to Jack was that he _helped_.

The small pouch of two-hundred and fifty caps jingled as he retrieved his pack from the fire pit. Like Jack, it reminded him how much he missed having someone by his side, someone he could depend on no matter what. And it reminded him that he owed his life to this man that expected nothing in return. Then it dawned on him.

"Ay, Jack. Can we… talk for a sec?"


End file.
